


Super Dandelions

by orphan_account



Category: Baccano!
Genre: Gen, canon-level scientific psychological abuse of homunculi, chris shouting random chinese names without checking if they make sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Subject 0012 gets Christopher's help finding a name, whether he likes it or not.





	Super Dandelions

Moonlight didn't reach the room, and no one wanted it to. Sleep was hard enough to come by without intrusions from outside. A child shut his eyes tightly and tried to forget that Hell would come whether or not he slept.

“Hong Heishan! Hong Heishan!”

The childish whisper barely cut through the night. For someone notoriously loud during daylight hours, Christopher's call to his fellow test subject was hardly audible even to the one he addressed.

One who didn't respond.

Christopher's lips twisted. After a moment, he relented. “ _Subject 0012_.”

Subject 0012 finally turned in bed enough to look at Christopher properly. He stared impassively at his companion, who blinked back with big brown eyes.

Then Christopher grabbed 0012's arm and tugged. “I want to show you something.”

“It's 2AM.”

“Wow, you can tell the time even though you just woke up? That's so impressive, Long Jintan.” Christopher got another impassive look for his second effort. Christopher sighed, still so quietly, and then resumed, “But we both know you weren't sleeping. Come with me.” Another pause. “Do you really want to lie awake thinking of tomorrow?”

0012 had no desire to let Christopher know how right he was, but also knew that there was no point in hiding it when Christopher was awake for the same reason. The slight tremble in Christopher's hand gave him away.

And with an insistent yank, that tremble vanished. “ _Come on_.”

“Shut up.” 0012 pulled himself out from under the sheets of his cot in the room they shared with the other homunculi. He looked around at the closest cots to make sure Christopher hadn't woken up the others. Wilhelmina was, or at least was pretending, to rest with her back turned to them. 0017 was sleeping fitfully. He was young, and hadn't yet learned how to kill fear in the unconscious mind. 0014 hadn't come back from the laboratory a few weeks ago, so 0012 assumed he had died in an experiment. Christopher had said that he hadn't heard of anyone getting rid of the body, but that was no guarantee of survival. Some experiments did not leave anything to dispose of.

0012's feet hit the floor with a cold shock up his legs. Christopher was already heading for the doorway, and 0012 moved after in their well-learned silence. He made no noise shutting the door behind him, and they kept their quiet well out into the frozen yard. Neither of them had bothered to try to get shoes, lest someone notice their movements, so they moved light on their feet, trying not to freeze their bones.

Gruffly, more from the cold than the interruption of his sleepless night, 0012 demanded, “Why are we out here?”

“Well, Feilong Miao—no? What about Tian Chi-Mei?”

“Christopher.”

“No, we can't both be Christopher. But I'm so glad you're finally coming to appreciate my talent for naming. You really ought to trust in the names I give you.”

“ _Christopher_.”

Christopher made another face, then said, “You should have more fun. It's better for your health to laugh than to get angry at a perfectly companionable associate who is only looking out for your well-being. Come this way, friend! Oh, I have it: I'll call you 'friend.' Then I won't have to worry about a name.”

“My name isn't for you, Christopher.”

But Christopher offered 0012 a lazy grin over his shoulder as he moved towards the edge of the laboratory's gardens. “Of course it is. It isn't like you'll be saying it as often as I will, after all.”

It was a stupid twist of logic of the kind 0012 was quickly learning to ignore. He just told Christopher 'no' and followed him to a patch of snow. Still moving lightly between his two feet, he saw Christopher stop in place, ignoring the cold, and crouch down. 

0012 stopped too, trying to make out what had so fascinated Christopher. Though the moonlight was weak, the snow reflected what little brightness there was, making it difficult to discern anything. Christopher's object of interest seemed to fade into the whiteness of the snow. Ignoring the bright cold, 0012 crouched down. The snow melted rapidly around his feet, and that water began to freeze in the night air. 

With a quiet reverence, Christopher cupped his hands around some small object resting on the snow—and 0012 saw it. A dandelion, jutting out from the snow just barely, its petals turned to white seeds.

0012 rose to his feet. He should have expected this. Leave Christopher to his whims; 0012 was going back inside to rest before tomorrow. But Christopher shot out a hand to grab his leg and stop him from leaving.

“No, listen. It's beautiful, isn't it? But I was thinking . . . it shouldn't be alive right now, right? A flower like that is supposed to die in winter. It wasn't even designed to survive through this. So we can't lose to this flower, can we?”

Not answering, 0012 stared at the homunculus in front of him. The broad smile with gaps from milk teeth fallen and not yet replaced, the shadows and light that made it impossible to discern the corner of his eyes—but even with the grip, Christopher's hand was shaking.

“So it's all right,” Christopher continued. “We're not going to let Nature win against us.” He rose to grab 0012's hands, and though both of them were frozen, 0012 felt his skin warming to the touch.

It was with a dull, dead surprise that 0012 realized that his body was shaking, too.

“In Nature, every kind of animal has a habitat that's where they're supposed to be, and they have all the skills to survive it. Of course, not every kind of animal is going to survive, but they're better at surviving there than other things, because that's what evolution set their bodies up to endure. And you and I have an even greater advantage than that. Unlike evolution, which relies on chance to get it right, we were specially created for this kind of existence. Isn't it marvellous? Where an ordinary kind of dandelion would usually die in our circumstances, we're like super dandelions, like dandelions above all dandelions, with cells that can draw strength from the weakest of suns and stalks that don't snap under the weight of snow.”

As with everything Christopher said, it was nonsense. And also as with everything Christopher said, to 0012, the truth behind it was clear. After a moment's silence, 0012 said, “We need to rest before tomorrow. Frostbite won't help either of us.”

Christopher laughed. “Hm? What's the Chinese for 'shivery feet'? Can we call you that?” 

“Shut up.”

“Hold on!” Christopher shifted his grip so that he could stoop over, and to 0012's surprise, he yanked the dandelion out of the ground.

“Isn't that supposed to be our model for survival?”

“ _Well_ ,” Christopher said, “if it wanted to properly survive situations like this, it should have asked someone to give it thorns. Not that such pitiful defences would have stopped me. Hey, Shen, if I asked the scientists to give my thorns on my hands, do you think they would? Wouldn't that look really cool?”

“No. And yes, but no.”

“Wait, why were there two 'no's?”

“It's not my name.”

Christopher shook his head in disapproval at 0012. Then he lifted up the dandelion, taking a minute to look at the white, puffy seeds. “Nobly, you rose up through the snow to reach for the sun. But tonight, the sun is gone, and the moon cannot reflect her power for you. I, Christopher Shouldered, have defeated you. And with your corpse, on your fruitless future, I make my wish.” Christopher breathed in, and then exhaled. The seeds scattered and vanished to be frozen in the snow.

“Stop imitating the Poet.”

“I'm not imitating: I'm taking inspiration from his poetry and making it my own. That's what true artistry means.”

They bickered all the way back inside, where they immediately turned again to silence. There were no punishments to fear; their actions would be permitted. Still, they did not want this venture to be known. 

So they returned to their beds without making a sound, and 0012 dreamed of Chinese syllables that Christopher uttered without understanding.

0012 came to the morning with the same stony, impassive acceptance which which he came to the operating rooms. He dressed, greeted the still-living subjects, and tried to ignore Christopher's endless talking as they headed to the dining hall, not knowing whether or not they would be allowed to eat this morning. 0012 made certain neither to prepare himself for an empty stomach nor think about the food he wanted to consume so that, one way or another, the instructions from scientists wouldn't surprise him at the door. Christopher was never so hesitant, going on at length about all the things he wanted to eat until 0012 had to punch him in the jaw to shut him up.

“Ow! An Shi! Is this really how you're going to treat your best friend?”

“We're not friends,” he answered, “and it's Chi.”

It was enough to stop Christopher in his tracks. On the cold stone hallways their feet could not feel, 0012 and Christopher stood very still, and very quiet. 

Because Christopher did not interrupt him, he added, “Hong Chi-Mei. I decided. So you can stop trying to make names up for me.”

When Christopher smiled, 0012— _Chi_ —knew it was real. He wanted to smile back. But his face remained impassive and his stomach sickened. A name didn't protect them from what was coming next.

“Ah,” came a soft voice. “Hong Chi-Mei? How nice. I'm glad to hear you've chosen, Chi.”

Chi took one step towards Christopher, whose eyes were fixed on a point behind him. He knew what would face him when he turned. 

And wearing a faint, doll-like smile, Huey Laforet reminded them that they were never truly out of Hell. “It's good to see you both have warmed up. I thought that there was no point in delaying the experiment this morning.

“That is, given that you are _specially created for this kind of existence_.” 

That was right. 

Of course their creator knew. 

For creatures like them, such things could never be escaped.

And no matter what name he chose for himself, that was only another piece of data for the scientists to consider about test subject 0012. Just like everything else they did.

Huey was already indicating they should accompany him. That calm, unfeeling voice carried clearly through the air. “Before the experiment, I'm interested in hearing your reasons for choosing those names out of those Christopher offered you. I'm particularly interested how Christopher's story of the dandelion affected your choice.” 

It was just a question of data. It was just information that Huey doubtless had already. So Chi opened his mouth to surrender something he could never really have protected.

“Master Huey!” And excited, elated, cheerful as that declaration was, it shocked Chi's system more than the quiet voice that cut through them with scalpel's ease. “I had no idea you were interested in that dandelion. Are you, too, interested in the many lessons on nature we can see in its life? Or at least, that we could see until I tore it up.”

It was just for a second that Christopher and Chi met each other's eyes. Just for a moment, one that they knew Huey wouldn't miss, but that was all right. 

They knew that everything they did would be seen and dissected. They knew there was no reprieve except to see someone else under the knife. And of course, that escape was only temporary. In the end, the scientists always got every piece of information they wanted. So there was no point in trying to protect each other from that.

As a moment passed, Huey chose which line of information to pursue for the moment. “Would you like to tell me about it, Christopher?”

“If you wish to hear it, it would be my pleasure,” Christopher said, and Chi must not have been the only one to hear the soft tremble under his loud exclamation. But he spoke anyway, and for this brief instant between one experiment and the next, no eyes were on Hong Chi-Mei, newly named, to cut into his thoughts.

He touched his fingers against his palms, warmer than last night, and thought about the thorns Christopher said he would want to grow on them. (Christopher really was an idiot.) Chi thought about the snow that froze their feet, and dandelions, and all the foolish names that Christopher came up with for him. At least that stupid game could stop.

Chi decided that Christopher's cheerful, incessant babbling was going to drive him mad. But it might be better that way. He knew what had happened to the older homunculi. There were different kinds of Hell to break in.

And it occurred to Chi that Christopher was already choosing his Hells.

“Shut up.”

Surprise silenced Christopher, which pleased Chi. Huey looked down on Chi with that detached curiosity, willing to let the moment play out.

“If I'm sick of your constant nonsense, Master Huey must be tired of it ten times that amount. I'll talk about my decision.”

Always stony-faced, 0012, now Chi, met the eyes of a creature who was just like him. Though they were observed, still, they needed to have this exchange that stopped short of speech. Even though this, too, was a subject of experiment. It still mattered that they know.

Chi saw the blurriness in Christopher's eyes.

The laboratory door opened. A scientist stepped out and said, “Everything is ready for them now.” Huey stepped inside, and while he did not call out to them, they knew what they needed to do next.

So they walked in together. On that day, they were not so broken yet that they would bury the hope of walking out the same way.


End file.
